While You Were Dead

by CJ Snyder

  “Now.”

  She heard his command and almost simultaneously the hand over her mouth lifted. Kat sucked in the clear, chilly air, her chest heaving, trying to refill her lungs. Vic smiled at her relief. The smile broadened, revealing his white, perfect teeth. “G’night, love.”

  Good night?

  She gulped in another lungful of air, realizing too late it was filtered now by the cloth the guard had held up to her face before. Stop breathing! The urgent command went out, but not before she’d inhaled twice more. Her wrists and ankles, still held at her sides, twitched with commands they couldn’t respond to as her eyes slid shut.

  ##

  She heard the voice from far, far away. It beckoned to her, lighting a path through dark mists that clung to her brain. The heavy fog weighting her body didn’t lift; she couldn’t move. But she could listen. And slowly she could feel. Small fingers stroked her face, her hair, danced over her closed eyelids. The touch was soft as baby’s breath, warm with a moist-stickiness that wasn’t completely pleasant. For all the gentle urgency of the fingers, the words were not directed at her.

  “See, you gotta come. She’s here, she really is. Your Kat’s here, so you just gotta. I’ve got her right here. Remember? She’s pretty, just like you said, but she’s not very smart. She made him real, real mad. He hasn’t been that mad before. He hurt her.” Wet drops fell over Kat’s face like warm rain. Somewhere up above her, a loud sniff sounded followed by a quiet sob. “Please. Please. Please, come and get us, Uncle Max.”

  Uncle Max.

  Lizzie!

  Kat forced her eyes open. Lizzie’s face came into view, eyes screwed tightly shut. She had Kat’s head in her lap and she rocked slightly as she uttered her plea. Kat concentrated hard and got her fingers to move, enough to capture one of Lizzie’s hands in hers before her daughter’s wandering fingers caused permanent damage to her newly-opened eyes. Lizzie gasped. Kat did too, a tiny one, as she stared up into Max’s eyes. How could he have spent her lifetime looking into those eyes and not have realized?

  “Hi, baby,” Kat whispered.

  Lizzie’s bottom lip trembled and she blinked several times, as if trying to convince herself she wasn’t conversing with a ghost. “You okay?”

  Kat tried for a nod, but was sure she hadn’t quite pulled it off when Lizzie only continued to stare. “I will be.”

  Lizzie scrubbed one cheek with the back of her hand, swirling the dirt adorning both. Now her gaze was speculative. “You’re Uncle Max’s girl.”

  How could she know that?

  “Kat.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Kat nodded anyway.

  “He’s got a picture of you. In his desk. I’m not supposed to know it’s there.”

  Kat stifled the tug on her heart and the tears that would follow. Lizzie’s memory of their first conversation wouldn’t be accompanied by tears. “I won’t tell.”

  “Why are you here?”

  No way she could lie. She offered a sheepish smile. “To rescue you.”

  Lizzie frowned. “You’re not very good.”

  “No, I’m not.” Kat struggled to sit up, managing with Lizzie’s help. She leaned back against a wall, willing the webs out of her mind as strength trickled back into her limbs. Upright, her head hurt like hell, pounding an obnoxious rhythm that was nearly audible. She forced a smile to her lips. “I’m also not through.”

  Her daughter didn’t look too impressed. Kat didn’t blame her. Wonder Woman she obviously wasn’t. “Uncle Max will come.”

  “We may not need him.” Not for anything would she tell her daughter that Uncle Max was in worse shape than her would-be rescuer.

  “Did you bump your head? When he shoved you?”

  “No.”

  “You were pretty brave.” Something in her tone reminded Kat of Max. That something warned her that Lizzie wasn’t finished. “Brave, but really, really stupid. Uncle Max says smart is better than brave.”

  Kat sighed and tried to shake life back into her numb fingertips without jarring her head too much. “Uncle Max is right.” The room wasn’t lit, except for the glow of a nightlight somewhere on the wall behind her. Either dusk or dawn threatened at the lone window. She’d been right about the brown paper. It was taped to the sill, all the way around. Front or back, she couldn’t tell, but the room was on the north end of the house. She’d seen the south end.

  Lizzie fixed her with a defiant glare. “I wasn’t stupid.”

  Kat hid a smile. “Of course you weren’t.”

  Lizzie leaned close and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “They knew the code.”

  Kat stopped her resuscitation efforts and gave Lizzie her full attention. “What code?”

  “My code.” Lizzie sighed, letting Kat know her estimation was falling like a rock. “See, when you–“ she stopped suddenly. “Do you have kids?”

  Kat’s lungs suddenly deflated. A squeak was all she could manage. She couldn’t lie. She couldn’t tell the truth.

  Lizzie saved her, rolling her eyes. “Of course you don’t. If you had kids, you’d know. You never go with anyone, no matter what they say, unless they know the code. It’s a word, and only the two of you know it. My word with Max is cat.”

  Kat had her breath back, but now her heart had stopped. If she’d needed proof of the intensity of his feelings for her after all these years, Lizzie had just handed it to her. But how had Vic known? He didn’t know Max. She’d never said a word about Lizzie to him.

  Your daughter won’t.

  He knew. How or why didn’t matter. Kat hushed a groan and sat up straight, ignoring her head’s violent protest. “Tell me what you know. How many men are here? Do they take turns? How do they feed you?”

  Lizzie suddenly looked a lot more interested in their conversation. “I’ve seen four, but I think there might be more. The nasty one–“ She stopped and Kat filled in the blank.

  “Vic.”

  “You know him?” Lizzie shuddered.

  Kat fought the urge to shut her eyes. The knowledge of what Vic had done, might still do, because of her, lurked in the back of her mind, waiting to pounce and devour her. She couldn’t let that happen. Not until Lizzie was safe. “I thought I knew him. It was a long time ago and I was very wrong. I don’t know him at all.”

  Lizzie nodded, apparently satisfied. “He only came once.” Lizzie looked down her stretched out leg. Kat followed her gaze to the filthy gauze wrapped around the lower half of her foot. Once again, her voice dropped to a whisper. “I tried to unwrap it once, but it hurt too much. It’s kind of stuck. I think they cut it, because it bled. It’s pretty sore.”

  Change the subject!

  “Bathroom?”

  “Every couple of hours.” Lizzie wrinkled her nose and Kat felt like she was looking in a mirror. A very strong urge to scoop her daughter up and cuddle her to her breast had her fingers itching but Kat fought it back, sure Lizzie would not be impressed. “They don’t let you close the door, but they do turn their back.”

  “Food?”

  “Not too bad. Hot dogs, pizza–the frozen stuff.” Lizzie shrugged. “Barbecued potato chips.”

  Which brought them full-circle back to Vic. Barbecued chips were his favorite snack food.

  “So Vic’s only been here once? What about the others?”

  Another shrug. “They take turns coming in here. They use that smelly-stuff to make me sleep sometimes. I used to fight it, but I don’t any more. I think that’s what might have made Vic hurt my foot.”

  “Do you know any of their names?”

  “No. They don’t use them. Not real ones any way. There’s another guy here–he’s in trouble too. They call him Snitch. I’m Brat.” She rubbed her nose. “Uncle Max calls me Lizard.”

  Wonder what he’s calling me right about now?

  She didn’t want to know. Where was Reicher? “What time is it, Lizzie?”

  “Morning. I don’t know exactly. How do you know my name?”
<
br />   “Max told me,” she evaded quickly. Time to change the subject again, if it wasn’t already too late.

  “You saw him? Recently?”

  Too late. Kat scrambled for enough of an answer to satisfy Lizzie without revealing how dire their situation really was. “He’s, ummm, staying at my house. Since you were abducted.”

  “Is there an Amber Alert out for me?”

  Kat smiled. “You betcha.”

  Lizzie’s grin lit up her face, just like Max’s, before it faded slowly. “Won’t matter much if we don’t get out of here. Does Max know you’re here?”

  Once again, Kat wanted desperately to lie. “No, honey. He doesn’t.”

  “Does anybody know you’re here? Besides the bad guys.”

  Only Vic. Kat slammed the door on her guilt. Time for that later. And Reicher. Where was Reicher? “Can you walk, Lizzie?”

  “Some. It’s not too bad if I go slow and only use my heel.”

  “Do you have shoes here?”

  “I did when they took me. Maybe in the camper. I haven’t seen them since they brought me here. Where is here?”

  Kat ignored that one. “Do you know directions? How to tell south? And west?”

  Again her net worth plummeted. “I grew up with Uncle Max. What do you think?”

  She now thought Lizzie knew all she needed to get out. Max loved to camp. If he camped with Lizzie, she’d grown up knowing how to find her way. “Can you run, do you think? If you had to? For a little ways?”

  Lizzie’s eyes got huge, so huge Kat almost grinned. “Like out of here? Just watch me.”

  “Good girl.” She probably wouldn’t get to watch, but one way or another, Lizzie was going to have a chance to show her. Her daughter wore dark jeans and a stained, faded white t-shirt. The jeans would be fine and Lizzie could wear her black fleece jacket to cover the white.

  She settled her foot against Lizzie’s uninjured one. Not that much bigger, thanks to Max’s huge feet, no doubt. “Put this on,” she ordered, tugging off her right shoe. “And this.” She yanked the light fleece over her head, remembering her hidden gun as she did.

  It was gone.

  Kat wasn’t surprised. Victor Fordon wouldn’t ever surprise her again.

  That was a vow Lizzie could take to the bank.

  Or home to Max.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Max gingerly flexed his chest muscles and nearly winced. Pitiful. Each and every movement still shot red-hot spears throughout his torso. He’d never been really good with his left hand and he could barely hold his rifle in his right. Forget firing it with any accuracy. Absolutely pitiful.

  Ten o’clock. Hours gone. How long since Kat left? Why did she go? Where did she go?

  He opened a bottle of ibuprofen with his teeth and downed four of them. Followed that with an acetomenophen chaser and realized he should have taken the medicine before he’d decided to flex his muscles. The pain was two-fold now, the dull and heavy ache he’d had before and a new, razor-sharp needle that entered at his spine and followed his rib cage when he so much as twitched a single finger.

  Pitiful.

  But he could shoot. Slowly. One agonizing load at a time. Left handed. It would be enough. It had to be.

  He flipped open his phone. Turning it on made him wince. He hoped the damn pain relievers worked quick. At least he had Reicher on speed dial.

  “Anything?”

  “I should have a number from the phone company within an hour.”

  If Vic was responsible for the electronics he’d found in her house, the phone number wouldn’t be worth a damn. “You know that’s not what I want.”

  “How about her cell records?”

  Better. “Locations?”

  “That’s what they tell me.” Reicher didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm. “Besides a firm location and a new rib cage, anything else on your wish list?”

  “You’ll tell me when you know where they are, won’t you?”

  Reicher’s chuckle was short and to the point. “Yeah. I’d love to find your dead carcass at my crime scene. Are you out of your mind, Max? Hell no, I’m not giving you the location. I’m not giving you any more information, as a matter of fact. Stick your hands where the sun don’t shine and leave me alone to do my job!”

  The phone went dead. Max almost threw it across the room.

  Stupid move, letting the detective catch a glimpse of his plans. But Reicher didn’t understand.

  Viper would. Only, since their last communication hours ago, Viper wasn’t answering his phone.

  Max knelt before his kit, glanced at his watch and assembled his rifle. Six minutes. Worse than pitiful. He shook his head. He’d just keep that information to himself. Viper didn’t need to know. If Viper ever called back.

  He paced the house, wanting to roar with the frustration building inside. Ice wouldn’t let him. Ice didn’t much like the pacing either, but the pain in his body made him too edgy to sit still.

  He’d searched frantically for his truck keys until he’d realized they were as useless to him now as his truck. He’d already arranged to have a car delivered by noon. He had wheels, or would soon, and the means to take back his own. Location, location, location. It really was all that mattered.

  ##

  Kat spent the morning on the floor. There wasn’t much choice; the small bedroom had one thin mattress on a rickety frame in the corner. She and Lizzie could have sat on it, but they chose the floor under it instead. Or nearly under it. The dust there was thick, perfect for outlining a map.

  Lizzie amazed her. Her mind absorbed like a sponge, and when Kat asked, she repeated, word for word, every instruction Kat uttered. She described the guards, down to details most people wouldn’t notice, like a small mole behind a left ear. She finished Kat’s sentences, sometimes with vocabulary Kat herself hadn’t used until college.

  Kat fell deeply, madly in love for the second time in her life.

  “When the time comes, honey, I may not be able to actually tell you.”

  Lizzie was there before her. “Wink if you can,” she suggested. “If not, well, I’ll just keep my eyes and ears open.” She held up her hand when Kat opened her mouth. “I know, I know. Trust my instincts. If I get the chance, when you have the guards distracted, then run. Over the back wall, through the field, don’t stop until I get to a business on 120th, because we don’t know the neighbors around here.” She held up her fingers, ticking off Kat’s instructions. “Call a cab. Go directly to Max–at your house.” She rattled off the address like it was her own.

  Kat nodded but Lizzie shook her head. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “How do you get out?”

  Kat smiled. “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’ll be right behind you. Maybe not for a day or so, but I’ll be there.” She patted her daughter’s knee and firmly changed the subject. “What do you like best about school?”

  By the afternoon, she’d learned about Lizzie’s life in Bluff River Falls, how exasperating Max could be, and also how wonderful. She’d also learned that despite Miriam’s penchant for secrets, she couldn’t have made a better choice for a mother for her daughter.

  In turn, she told Lizzie about her relationship with Max. She skipped over the end, until Lizzie herself assured her she knew about Max’s missing years, and that he’d died. Kat, knowing without a doubt that Max would never, ever leave Lizzie, was surprised to find that Lizzie believed he would. Miriam’s input, she discovered with some vague-sounding probes. Kat assured her Miriam was improving and changed the subject when Lizzie asked how she’d taken the news of her disappearance. No doubt Max had told Miriam by now, but she could honestly say she didn’t know how Miriam would take it.

  They were left alone, except for bathroom breaks and at lunch, when a young man brought a plate with sandwiches.

  “Cap,” Lizzie whispered by way of introduction as she reached for a sandwich. When he left with the empty plate, she wrinkled her nose. “D
id you notice? He never looks at anyone–just stares straight ahead like that. Gives me the creeps. I wonder why they call him Cap. I lost mine. I had it at the hospital–I wonder if Max found it.”

  “He didn’t say,” Kat murmured. No way she’d tell Lizzie her cap was outside the front door in the dirt. Kat had dropped it when the guard had surprised her from behind. Now it just emphasized her failure to save her daughter.